Traveling Alongside Torture
by Nevertoomany
Summary: Sam and Dean's sister, Carter, has been on the run for four years now, but hasn't forgotten about her brothers' remains. A simple meeting with Booth about their bones leads to being kidnapped by a shapeshifter, leaving Carter to figure out how to save herself and Booth. Part two to "Mixed in With Melancholy," AU sis!fic crossover,
1. Chapter 1

Hello and welcome back! This is the part two to "Mixed in With Melancholy," featuring my OC Carter. If you have not checked part one out, I highly recommend you do so before reading this story, or else you may be really confused. For those who have already read part one, here is a little refresher for you: Carter, the Winchesters' half sister, was in prison, but was brought in to help solve Dean and Sam's supposed murders. Carter managed to convince Booth to let her help in person on the case, where she was able to figured out who killed Dean (Sam had died previously on a hunt and his death was not a mystery to her, but was for the FBI). Once Dean's killer, Jimmy Spacer, was located, Booth went undercover to arrest him, prompting Carter to escape and confront Jimmy herself. She ended up shooting and killing Jimmy, getting away in the end.

Of course, this is the short version of the story, and I suggest rereading part one if you are still confused.

Anyway, so this story takes place four years after part one. Carter has been on the run since killing Jimmy and escaping. Now she is 20 years old, and the time period is placed around season 8, though obviously the events in season 8 have not happened. It is important to note that Bobby is still alive.

That's about all that is important to note, so I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: explicit language is used, so if that bothers you, this story will not be for you

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Bones, or anything affiliated with them.

* * *

The highway around her hummed. It was nine o'clock at night and only a handful of cars passed her. One hand on the wheel, the other hand tightly gripping her cell phone to her ear, Carter sighed. It had been four years and she still wasn't used to the silence. She hardly played the radio, because today's music sounded trashy, and any music from before the 90's reminded her of Dean. So the radio stayed off. In the summertime she would open the windows to drown out any silence, but it was winter now, and she only opened the windows to keep herself awake on late rides. So, besides the occasional driver passing her, it was quiet.

Finally, the call picked up and a gruff voice answered the phone. "Booth."

Carter took a deep breath and asked, "On a scale of one to ten, how cooperative are you feeling?"

"Excuse me?" Booth asked, irritation starting to show in his voice. "Who is this?"

"Okay, I'll tell you," Carter relented, "But first you have to know that as soon as this call ends, I'm throwing this phone out the window on a pretty remote highway. And don't even bother trying to trace this call, because by the time you find me, I'll be long gone." Carter paused, and even though Booth couldn't see her, she smiled and said, "It's Carter, your favorite Winchester."

Booth's end went quiet before he finally answered, "I hope you're aware you're wanted by the FBI."

Carter chuckled. "When aren't I?" She licked her lips and continued, "I need a favor from you."

"A favor from me?" Booth asked shockingly, "Not likely to happen if you're not behind bars first."

She smiled. "Cool your jets, will ya? I'm trying to have a civil conversation here." A blue car passed her on her left, going just above the speed limit. "I need your help with something. Meet me at The Royal Diner in a week at 6 pm. And don't bring anybody, okay? I see a car that even remotely looks like an undercover agent and I'm out of there."

"And why should I meet you? You haven't exactly done any favors for me, lately."

Carter's smile dimmed. "Agent Booth, I wouldn't be asking if I didn't think it was important. I trust you; please trust me, just this once. Maybe I'll surprise you."

Booth paused on the other end, collecting his thoughts and weighing his options. "Fine, I'll meet you; but I can't promise you anything other than that. One wrong move and backup will be on its way."

"Sounds fair to me," Carter smiled. "Thanks Agent Booth, you won't regret this." She pulled the phone away from her ear and ended the call. She switched the wheel to her other hand and rolled down the window, promptly throwing the phone across the street as hard as she could.

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Let me know what you think! If you have any questions or comments, make sure you leave them in the reviews or PM me. It really makes my day seeing what you all have to say!

Since this whole story has been written already, a new chapter will be posted every week. There will be five chapters in total. Hope to see you then!


	2. Chapter 2

Hello, and welcome back everyone! Thank you all for reviewing, following, and favoriting this story, it really makes my day. I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

After reading this chapter, if you would like to read more about Carter, you can check out my story called "Her Life and Other Tragedies."

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, Bones, or any of their characters

Warning: If the use of curses angers you, this is not the story for you!

* * *

Booth had arrived a half an hour early to the diner. He had ordered a coffee and plopped himself down at the counter. Eyes lingering on each new person, he watched as they came into the diner and took their seats. He scanned every single face, applying to each person the image of the youngest Winchester that had been seared into his brain. He was nervous, though he would never admit it.

The last time he saw Carter was when she shot Jimmy Spacer in the chest. Booth had tackled her to the ground, but she had gotten up when his back was turned and escaped out the kitchen door. His agents had searched ceaselessly for her for months, but hadn't been able to pin her down. Four years later and he was still getting his ass beat for dropping the ball on that one.

He took a sip of his coffee, regretting putting that extra sugar in. He looked down at his watch and noticed it was now 6:10, ten minutes past the time Carter was supposed to meet him. To a normal person, those ten extra minutes wouldn't matter, but Booth was meeting a wanted criminal, one who had resorted to killing a man the last time he saw her. He expected her to be on time, at least.

A coffee cup plopping down on the counter next to him pulled him out of his reverie. "Mind if I sit here?" Booth pulled his eyes away from the door and looked at the 20-something year old woman standing next to him. Her hair was straight, light brown, looked recently cut, and she had bangs. It was definitely not the image of Carter he had seared into his brain. Carter's hair was longer, dark brown, had little curls in it, and she didn't have any bangs.

"Actually, I'm saving that seat for someone else," Booth pulled out clean and smooth, already inching to look back at the door. Instead of moving away, the woman sat down, pulling her coffee cup closer to her.

"What, you don't recognize me?" The woman asked, feigning sadness. Booth turned back to the girl, taking in all her features and finally connecting her to the criminal he was there to meet: Carter Winchester.

"You changed your hair." His tone was dark, upset with himself that he didn't even think that she might change her hair. Obviously she was smart and wouldn't leave her mug to match the hundreds of wanted posters decorating America.

Carter shrugged, her ever familiar smirk of defiance on her face. "I decided to change things up a little. You feds put my mugshot everywhere," she said, stating what Booth had come to realize, "I wasn't even able to buy a sandwich those first few months."

"Oh, I feel for you," Booth replied sarcastically. "You know, you wouldn't have that problem in prison."

Carter rolled her eyes.

"Can we just get to the reason I called you here? I need a favor." She took another sip of her coffee and sighed, looking down into the brown liquid. "Sam and Dean's bones … they're locked up pretty tight in the Jeffersonian. I already tried getting them myself, but I couldn't."

Booth interrupted, "What do you mean you 'tried getting them yourself?' You telling me you broke into the Jeffersonian?" He looked over at her face and scoffed. "You're really not helping yourself here very much. In fact, I'm going against my better judgement by not arresting you right this second." At his last sentence, he looked around, trying to keep this conversation on the down-low as much as he could. "Give me something I can work with, here."

Carter put down her coffee cup and turned her body towards Booth, slight desperation showing, "Listen, Booth, I came to you, alright? Isn't that something? That should count for _something_."

Booth sighed, forsaking his own coffee and putting his hand on his hip, turning his body towards Carter as well. "What do you even want me to do, huh? Their bones are evidence; Sam's case is still open and without you in prison, their bones would never be released." He paused. "I can't help you, kid."

She bit her bottom lip in frustration. This seriously couldn't be happening right now. Booth was her last straw, her last big hope. She had spent three of the four years she was out of prison searching for some way to bring her brothers back from the dead. But no demon would listen to her and no other spells or faith healers worked. When she finally admitted defeat, she switched to focusing on spending the next few months figuring out how she could bring her brothers to peace. After realizing Booth was her only chance, she knew she would have to risk going back to prison. She had run out of options.

Tears pricked in the back of her heart as she stared at Booth with pleading eyes.

"They're not just my _brothers_ , Agent Booth." Her voice soft, she continued, "They raised me, they protected me, they had my back when no one else on this goddamn earth did. I _can't_ just leave them in a cold warehouse alone. They're already dead, I can't do anything about that; but bringing them peace is what I _can_ do." When Booth didn't respond, Carter looked away, collecting herself.

The dinner rush around them softened their silence. Plates clanged onto tables, chairs scratched against the flooring, and the kitchen bell rang every couple of seconds. Every table had at least two people and the counter was completely full. The traffic light outside the diner changed to red, the cars slowly nearing it.

Finally, Carter scoffed. She was exhausted, wanting only to lie down in her bed and cry until she could no longer feel her face. "Whatever," she said, giving up on Booth helping her. She stood up, taking one last sip of her coffee. She took out a slip of paper she had written up earlier in the day and handed it to Booth. "If you change your mind, send them to this address. The guy who lives here is a good friend who can be trusted."

She turned and started walking towards the door, but stopped halfway there. She turned to face Booth and called out, "Oh, and Booth? Thanks for meeting me," she flicked her eyes around the room, " _alone_."

With that, she took the last few steps to the door, bringing in the cold as she flung it open. She stepped out into the street and immediately fell into the rhythm of the walkers around her.

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Let me know what you thought! Reviews make me very happy and encourage me to write more!

See you next week with chapter three! And if you want, check out "Her Life and Other Tragedies."


	3. Chapter 3

Hello again everyone! This chapter is longer than the other two, so I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, Bones, or any of their characters

Warning: If the use of curses angers you, this is not the story for you!

* * *

 _Three days later._

Carter's head pounded as she lifted it, blinking her eyes as she adjusted to the light. She tugged roughly on her hands that she found tied to her back, wincing in pain as the rope rubbed her skin.

She blinked through the ringing in her ears as she took in the lit warehouse. The industrial lights far above her head gave off a droning sound as they worked endlessly. Dust swam through the air and sucked into the lungs of anyone near it. Broken furniture, tiny shards of glass, several large pieces of machinery, and sun bleached papers littered the floor. Looking around, she found she was tied to one of the many metal ceiling beams that stretched throughout the building.

Carter shut her eyes, leaned against the beam, and bit her lip in anger.

 _Shit. Shit. Shit._

How stupid did she have to be to get into this situation? With no backup plan, no weapons, no one even knowing she was gone; she was screwed, royally and majorly _screwed._

Lightly banging her head against the beam, she groaned in anger.

If she was being honest with herself, she didn't even know how the hell she got there. One moment she's getting plastered in a bar and the next she's tied up in some goddamn warehouse. Not to mention that the sweet revenge of a hangover was creeping into her senses.

She tugged at her ropes another time for good measure. But feeling the rough material start to scrape harshly against her wrists, she stopped, realizing it would no doubt start ripping up her skin if she continued on. Instead she lifted her head to look around for anything that could cut through the rope. Unfortunately, the pocket knife she always carried was left behind in her car, an oversight she made in her haste to get to the bar.

Suddenly, the sound of a metal door scratching open caught her attention. She looked around for the door but found it outside her view. Heavy boots sounded loudly into the warehouse, followed by a sweet, whistling melody.

Panicked, Carter looked around again, trying to find anything, _anything_ , that could possibly cut through the ropes.

"You might want to struggle less," A smooth, deep voice called behind Carter, making her freeze. "It really wouldn't loosen the ropes any." The tall man slowly walked around to face her, his arms behind his back. A malicious smile displayed, he said, "Hello, Carter."

She soaked in his features and said, "You know my name; it only seems fair that I know yours."

"My name?" The man asked and then laughed. He turned around and began to stroll through the warehouse, looking up and around at everything. "A name doesn't always tell you everything you need to know. I could tell you my name is Jeremy Goodwin and you wouldn't be the wiser. No, you don't need to know my name."

Carter furrowed her eyebrows, not expecting that answer in the least. Usually whenever she asked a monster's name, they were more than happy to give it to her. But now? What the hell?

"Okay," Carter drew out, "So, what's going on, huh? I mean, besides kidnapping, of course."

The man started meandering around the warehouse, staying within hearing distance of Carter. "Oh, you know," he said nonchalantly, "just some good old-fashioned revenge." Once he turned his back to her, Carter tried wriggling out of her ropes again.

"Revenge?"

He blew out a breath in aggravation. "What, is there any echo in here? Revenge, yes, of course. A nice, hearty murder; it really gets the itch out of your veins."

Carter pursed her lips and nodded her head in agreement; she had to admit, she couldn't argue with that one. Killing the bad guys certainly made the "itch" in her veins go away, too. "So, what's the reason for your revenge, huh? Someone overcharge for your ice cream cone?" A smirk grew on her face.

The man turned and headed back towards Carter. His hands behind his back, he watched nothing but her face. "That's enough talk about me. How about we talk about you? Your friend, what's his name?"

Her smile slipped off her face and morphed into confusion. "Excuse me?" Honestly, she had no idea who he was talking about. The last time she considered she had a friend was years ago. She didn't even have anyone she considered family around anymore besides Bobby and Jody, but they were back in Sioux Falls, on the other side of the country.

The man sighed, now standing two feet away. "Tall, fancy suit, seemed a little pissed off at you. You two ate at some rinky dinky diner a couple days ago."

"Booth?" She laughed. "I wouldn't say we're exactly friends and all. More like I use him until he decides to put me in prison. It's not exactly a healthy relationship."

He moved closer so he was only a foot away. Squatting down to her level, he leaned his face in towards her. "Tell me everything about him."

Carter scoffed. "What? You got a crush on him or something? Go look him up yourself; I'm not gonna be your bitch."

The man groaned and stood up. "I don't have time for this." He reached forward, placing his two fingers on Carter's forehead. He shut his eyes and concentrated a second, Carter trying to pull her head away as he did so.

But before she even had time to shake him off, his hand pulled away and eyes fluttered back open. He took a few steps backwards, hands reaching towards his face, peeling the skin back. Quickly, all the skin on his body started to fall off, his bones began to shift, and his teeth all fell out. His whole body changed and shortened until the final result resembled a mirror image of Carter.

Carter, who had taken to looking anywhere but at the freak show in front of her, was now frozen.

"Man," she complained, with fire on her tongue, "what the hell? I thought I lost you dicks years ago." Ignoring her, the shapeshifter bent down and put its old clothes on, tightening the belt on the pants to make sure the oversized clothes didn't fall down. Once the clothes were on, it straightened out its arms and flexed its fingers, seeing how its new body worked.

"Interesting," the man-now-girl finally said after looking over her now female body. Cracking her neck to one side and then the other, arms slowly stretching above her head, she took a deep breath. Rifling through her new brain, she wiggled her face and sniffed once. Looking up at the ceiling, rubbing fingertips together, she said, "Wow, it's dark in this little brain, isn't it?"

Carter looked away, twisting her wrists around as she attempted to loosen the ropes, not daring a long look at her mirror image. "What do you mean?" She asked in a sour tone.

"You got a lot of shit going on in here," The shifter drawled out, voice sounding identical to Carter's. Carter pursed her lips and bit her tongue. Chuckling, she continued, "Oh, Daddy sure did a number on you, didn't he?"

Carter locked her jaw in anger.

"I mean, what kind of man treats his children like that, huh?" She continued to stretch her arms, getting used to the different proportions of her new body. "Toting them around for his petty little parade. It's just sad, isn't it? And then he just left you at shitty motels, with little cash, for weeks on end. That must've pissed you off." Stopping, she sighed and bent down in front of Carter. "You know what I think?"

Carter froze, her eyes sliding up to match the shifter's.

"I think someone should've killed him sooner. Would've saved the world from a whole lotta Winchesters."

Carter's jaw locked and she spent all her energy on not killing the freak in front of her. Slowly, she spit, "You shut your goddamn mouth before I shut it for you. My father was a hero, and he did the best he could with what he had."

The shifter fake frowned and drawled out an "awww." "Isn't it sad that you actually believe that?" She stood up and walked away from Carter, looking around the room in boredom. "You know, I feel for you, Carter. You got dealt a bad rap. But killing monsters like me? Now that's not something I can get behind," she spun around, her hands in her pants pockets, and shrugged, "for obvious reasons."

Carter's teeth clenched as the shifter talked, eyes narrowing to slits, forgetting all about her bindings.

Lifting her hand, she checked the time on the black watch that was now three notches too big for her wrist. "Anywho," she called as she looked back up at Carter, "I have work to do. So if you don't mind chilling for a bit, I gotta make a phone call." She walked over to one of the overturned broken desks that littered the floor and picked up her phone. Starting to dial Booth's number, hearing Carter's shoes scraping against the dusty floor as she sat up stopped her. "Oh, right," she sighed when she realized Carter could easily ruin this phone call for her. "I should probably do something about you first." Noticing her socks laying forgotten on the floor next to the pile of old skin and teeth, she walked over and grabbed one. Wadding it into as much of a ball as she could with one hand, holding Carter's mouth open with the other, she shoved the sock in enough so it wouldn't come out. Standing back up, she looked down at Carter, who was staring back with hatred in her motions. "That'll have to do."

Pulling the phone out of her pocket where she stashed it, she redialed Booth's number and put it to her ear. It rang three times before Booth finally answered.

"Booth," his gruff voice rang out through the desolate warehouse.

The shifter chuckled and slurred, acting drunk, "Hey, it's me, Carter."

The silence on the other end stretched for several seconds before Booth responded, "I didn't think you'd call me again. What do you want?"

The shifter walked a couple of steps away from Carter and turned her back to her; Carter's slitted eyes and angry posture was distracting her from the important call. Voice mirroring Carter's perfectly she said, "Listen, I-," she paused to fake a burp and moan a little, "I got myself in a bit of a pickle here." She slid her feet across the ground a couple of steps to mimic a drunken walk for good effect.

Booth remained silent on the other end.

"I'm a little drunk, too."

"Yeah, I can tell," he responded, no humor in his words.

The shifter's body slouched, getting into character. "Can you pick me up?" She moaned. "I really need to get back to my motel."

On the other end of the line, Booth sighed. "Where are you?"

Smiling, she realized the plan was starting to take effect. She turned back around to face Carter, making it known to her that everything was working. She recited the address of the warehouse, falling into her Carter persona as she did so.

Once he got the address written down, Booth sighed again. "It'll take me at least 45 minutes to get there. You think you can hang tight and not do something stupid until then?"

The shifter chuckled, "I think I can manage that. And don't worry, I got all night to waste."

"Alright, I'll be there soon."

"Just make sure you're alone, alright? We don't want any incarcerations here."

Booth grumbled on the other end before abruptly hanging up. It took the shifter a couple seconds to realize before she, too, pulled the phone away from her ear. Staring down at the phone, she spit, "That bastard hung up on me."

Carter, still with the sock in her mouth, started speaking. However, the only thing that came out was a bunch of incoherent mumblings. The shifter glared over at her before putting the phone down and sighing. "You really don't understand this whole gag thing, do you? The whole purpose of it is to make sure you _can't_ talk." Carter continued to push out her words through the gag, knowing full well the shifter couldn't understand her.

Finally, the shifter rolled her eyes and walked over to Carter, pulling the sock out of her mouth. "What? What are you wasting my time on now?"

With the gag out of her mouth, Carter licked her lips and cleared her throat, trying to get used to a wad of cotton not being in her mouth. Sweetly, she smiled, "I was trying to say that your sock tastes like you sweated out a bucket of fucking shit."

The shifter gritted her teeth, quickly becoming overwhelmed with anger. In a quick motion, she balled her fist and punched Carter in the cheek, knocking her head roughly to the side as she did so. The shifter straightened back up, breathing heavier and heavier as she attempted to calm her anger. Carter remained looking to the side, trying to get the sting out of her cheek and the blood out of her mouth.

Barely managing to calm her breath, the shifter glared down at Carter, waiting for her to react. Spitting out a wad of blood, Carter looked up and breathed out a smile, "Wow, I never thought I'd be able to say I punched myself in the face. So thanks for that." She calmed her demeanor, presenting that the punch had meant nothing to her. She'd lived her life in such a way that small little punches like that barely dented her armour. Being a hunter, she'd lost track of the amount of times she'd been tortured. This little show of toughness did nothing to her. If anything, it humored her. A Rate One Monster taking its tiny little baby steps into the world of torture; it was cute.

"You bitch," she muttered, before kicking Carter's legs halfheartedly. Turning her back to her, the shifter walked away towards a secluded office, slamming the door behind her.

With her gone, Carter breathed a sigh of relief. Without eyes constantly watching her, it gave her the time to regroup and figure out the plan. Quickly, she ran her tongue over her teeth, checking to make sure none of them were cracked or loose. Not that she expected them to be, but with her lack of dental insurance, she didn't want to take any chances. Finding them all in working condition, she moved onto her head wound. The shifter had smashed her over the head that night after walking out of the bar, a move that was made to immobilize the drunk hunter. Before that, the shifter had attempted to drug Carter's drink, but instead decided smashing her over the head was a quicker solution.

Her head still hurt quite a bit, but that was good considering she had a hangover and a head wound working tandem. She was still able to think properly and put on a good face, which was great. Smiling to herself, Carter realized it was those Winchester genes kicking in. Her brothers and her father were all functional alcoholics, if she was being honest, but they were still the best damn hunters she'd ever seen. So clearly, something was helping them there.

As Carter began to wriggle out of the rope binding her wrists, she started to remember the whole reason for getting drunk in the first place: her meeting with Booth earlier that week. She was exhausted, mentally and physically. She had played all her cards, shook every tree, and nothing had come of it. Her brothers were still locked up in an impersonal warehouse, much like she was. The world had forgotten about the whole Winchester family, had given them up and dumped them into the back of their minds. Nobody was talking about them, and nobody was setting out to save them.

And they didn't deserve that.

All their lives, they had sacrificed everything to save innocent people. They gave their childhoods to lore books and combat training. Their education had become about how to properly kill monsters, not how to solve algebraic equations. They lived out of cheap motels with hookers down the hall. They ate whatever came out of a restaurant or fit into a microwave. They wore second hand clothes with questionable stains and smells. They gave up all means to a normal life.

And they did it without being asked.

Without being thanked.

Without being appreciated.

And now, they were all being tossed in the trash and stomped on like useless bugs. All because they stopped giving their lives to the world.

Carter bit her cheek and looked around the trashed warehouse. Like hell was she going to go silently in this shithole. The world owed her one. And if she had to, she would take it kicking and screaming.

* * *

Let me know what you thought! Reviews, favorites, and follows make me very happy and encourage me to write more!

See you next week with chapter four! And if you want to read more about Carter, make sure to check out my other story, "Her Life and Other Tragedies."


	4. Chapter 4

Welcome back! There's one more chapter left after this one, so I hope you all stick around for the finale!

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatrual, Bones, or any of their characters

Warnings: Punching, decapitation, and cursing

* * *

It wasn't until an hour later that Booth showed up. For ten minutes, Carter and the shifter had been sitting in the dark silently. The shifter had shut the lights off in fear that Booth would see too much when he walked in, which also made it easier to hide. The shifter had shoved her sock back into Carter's mouth, gaining a lot of protests on Carter's end. She then crouched behind another nearby overturned table, swinging a knife around to pass the time.

With Booth's loud tires crunching on asphalt, the two froze. Carter's eyes widened to take in any little light she could find in the dark room and her ears trained to search for any little sounds she could hear. Meanwhile, the shifter placed the large knife back into her coat and picked up a nearby piece of wood, determining it would be better to knock Booth out with.

As Booth's car door opened and shut, Carter sat up, her heels making a slight noise as they grated against the debris. The shifter hummed out a low "shh," warning Carter as Booth's footsteps neared. Suddenly, the back door on the far end of the warehouse opened up, bringing in what little shine the moon had.

Inside, Carter's heart pounded. It was one thing to have to worry about saving herself, but with Booth there, she now had to worry about saving another person. Even worse, it was someone that didn't even have a clue about monsters, so he was useless in helping. It was not going to be easy, especially considering she was the only one tied up right then.

"Hello?" Booth called into the warehouse, looking around into the darkness. "Carter?" His eyes slowly started to adjust to the darkness, but it hardly did any good. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and flipped the flashlight on. Carefully, he made his way into the warehouse, unaware of the two sets of eyes watching his every move.

"Carter?"

Carter couldn't hold it in anymore and she let out a little grunt, the only thing she could manage with the gag in her mouth. Immediately, Booth froze. He looked over towards where he figured she must be and shined his phone light in that direction. The light hardly reached far, but he continued forward anyway, skirting around all the broken supplies.

"Carter?" He called out again, hoping the girl would cry out once more. However, she couldn't. Calling out the first time was a risk, and a second time would only cause further torture later.

She stayed silent.

Booth continued forward until finally his light caught sight of Carter. The sight of her state made him freeze. Running down the side of her head was blood, matted and drying into her messed up hair. Forming on her cheek was a large red mark, and her hands were tied behind her back. A wad of clothing was stuck in her mouth and her pants were coated in dust and grime, undoubtedly from the conditions she was sitting in.

However above all, it was her eyes that caught him the most. They were wide and scared, searching the dark for a little gleam of hope. In all the interactions Booth had had with her, he had never seen her this way. Honestly, he didn't think he would ever see her this far out of control of her own life. Even when she was in prison, she was in control.

Booth sped up and knelt down in front of Carter. His phone thudded to the ground, still illuminating the area around them. All the while Booth began hammering Carter with questions, asking what happened to her, why was she tied up, was she okay, and so on. Carefully, he took the sock out of Carter's mouth and tossed it onto the floor.

Immediately, Carter went to readjust her mouth, but out of the corner of her eye she saw the shifter approaching Booth from behind. Heart rate increasing, she yelled, "Watch out!" but it made no difference. The shifter swung the board down onto Booth's head, crumbling him into a heap of unconsciousness. Breathing heavy, both due to the adrenaline and anger, Carter looked up to the shifter and cried, "You sonofabitch!"

Lowering the board, the shifter looked down at Booth and shrugged. "How did you think this was going to go, Carter?"

She pursed her lips and looked down, trying to calm her breathing as she watched Booth's unmoving state. The shifter tossed the board aside and bent down to grab Booth's shirt collar. She picked him up as much as she could and drug his body over to the large piece of machinery close to Carter. Propping his body up against the machine, she grabbed the rope laid nearby. Expertly, she tied Booth's hands behind his back and around a piece of the machinery. Meanwhile, Carter's eyes never left the ground where Booth had laid.

"So," Carter paused and looked up at the shifter with slitted eyes, "you got the man of your dreams, what now?"

The shifter stood up, looking down at her handy work. "Now the fun begins."

Satisfied knowing Booth wouldn't be able to escape, she turned around and walked back to Carter, grabbing Booth's phone off the ground. The flashlight on it still shining bright, she used it to lead back to the office she had disappeared into earlier. Returning less than a minute later with several lanterns, she placed them on the ground near the captives and lit them. Shutting off Booth's phone, she tossed it carelessly onto the floor, not caring where it went.

As Carter watched the shifter, she became more and more confused. "Why don't you just turn the lights back on?" She asked. "Why go through the trouble of lighting lanterns?" Not getting a response, she thought some more and more and then asked, "Where did you even get those lights? You have them sitting around just in case you kidnap people?"

The shifter snapped her attention to Carter: the chittering monkey that grated her every nerve. "Would you just shut up already?" She paused, earning a glare from Carter, then added, "Haven't you ever heard of mood lighting? It's like interrogation rule number one."

Carter furrowed her brows in disbelief. How the hell was she stuck with such a loser for a kidnapper?

By this time, Booth had begun to stir. Groaning slightly, his drooped head began to lift. He blinked several times before looking up to observe his surroundings. Carter's eyes once again caught him first. Wide eyed and intense, everything about them screamed concern.

"You okay Booth?"

His eyes started to look around, taking in the predicament he was in. "What's going on?"

Satisfied with Booth's consciousness, the shifter stepped forward further into the lantern light. Booth looked over at her and immediately froze. Taking in all of the shifter's features, he quickly turned to look at Carter, noting every single similarity.

"Do you remember me?" The shifter asked, her voice remaining the exact same as Carter's. Booth continued to look back and forth between (what he saw as) two exact copies of a pain in the ass criminal. As Carter looked curiously at Booth, she noticed his confused and horrified look. Rolling her eyes, she looked up at the shifter.

"You look like me, asshole. He isn't going to recognize you," she replied bitterly.

The shifter grit her teeth and turned to look at Carter, her anger showing clearly.

Softly, Booth mumbled, "What the hell."

Tearing her eyes away from the shifter, Carter sighed. She hated this part. Deciding to just rip the bandaid off, she said, "The dick in front of you is a shapeshifter. They can change into anything they want, that's why this one looks like me. She mimicked my voice to lure you here; that wasn't me. In essence, they're a pain in the ass." She paused, wanting to make sure he understood, "She's a monster."

At Carter's harsh tones, the shifter slowly locked her jaw and peered down at her. "What the hell did I tell you?" She balled her fist up and punched Carter's face, right where she had earlier. Immediately, Carter's mouth filled with blood and she was left with a stinging on her cheek. This time, instead of watching the ground, Carter gazed up at the shifter with a smirk.

With bloodied teeth, she snickered. "Are we really going to do this again? I thought you already learned this doesn't work." With that, she spit her mouthful of blood onto the ground, her eyes not leaving the shifter's. "You're just a shitty monster all around, let's be honest."

The shifter grit her teeth, anger seething through her clothes. But she chose to ignore Carter. Instead, she turned towards Booth and squatted down in front of him. Her tone harsh, she spit, "Anthony Denn. You remember him?"

Booth watched Carter as the shifter squatted in front of him. He could see her running her tongue over her teeth, trying to hide the fact that she was in pain. Booth's eyes slid to meet the girl in front of him, who he still couldn't believe was real. The name she spoke ricocheted around in his brain until it came up empty.

"Should I?" He responded in a low voice, being cautious of the outcome it would earn him. With his tone of voice, Carter stopped what she was doing and locked back onto the situation beside her. She peered back and forth between Booth and the shifter, readying herself to help in anyway she could.

Eyes locking onto Booth, the shifter took a steadying breath. Slowly, she began, "Two years ago. Small little warehouse of nonimportance. You were called to the scene of an active shooting. My brother just so happened to be there and holding a gun. He didn't hurt or kill anyone; it was the other guys there that did it. But you saw him with his gun held out." Her bottom lip trembled, recalling the harsh memory. Voice cracking, she continued, "He was only trying to protect himself. But you shot him anyway."

Letting the story sink in, the room went quiet. All three occupants of the room stared with bated breath, watching to see who would make the first move.

"Is any of this ringing a bell?"

Slowly, Booth nodded his head. "I remember. But your brother was involved in some shady things. He wasn't the saint you make him out to be."

A low, animalistic groan emitted from the shifter as Booth's words sunk in, festering her every wound. On instinct, she pulled back her fist and rammed it into Booth's cheek, sending blood scrambling to the surface of his skin. But before he could react further, she grabbed his face and harshly turned it towards hers. Fingernails digging into skin, she growled, "He was my _brother_. I knew him better than anyone else. If I say he was innocent, then I mean it; no discussion. He didn't do anything wrong."

Disgusted with his presence, she shoved his heaving face out of sight, standing up to gaze down at him. "What kind of worthless piece of shit murders someone's _brother_?"

Piping up from behind, Carter replied, "Happens more than you think." The shifter's eyes slid over to meet Carter's. Carter produced an air of calmness as she continued. "I couldn't even tell you the amount of times my brothers have been killed. Have you ever tried bringing your brother back? I mean, assuming you're willing to risk your life for him; it's not an easy task, after all."

The shifter scoffed at the audacity. In a fake happy voice, she asked, "And why didn't you bring _your_ brothers back? No wait, don't tell me." She put her hand to her own head, eyes shutting, as she downloaded more of Carter's brain. A few seconds later, after the information had flooded her senses, she opened her eyes and laughed. "Oh, no; nobody respected you enough, did they? You begged and you begged but no one wanted to touch you with a ten foot pole. You ever think it's because no monster worth their shit would let two hellraisers back on earth?" She laughed again and looked down at the pipsqueak as Carter's expression radiated anger. "But you, tiny little Carter? You're like a little pebble in the ocean. Take you out or keep you in, you don't make a difference. No one is afraid to keep you around a little longer."

Suddenly, a smile spread across Carter's face. Ever since the shifter had been hidden away in the office, Carter had been making headway in her bindings. Slowly but surely she had been stretching the rope out and rubbing it on the edge of the metal beam, trying to loosen or break it in any way she could. Two minutes ago, the rope had finally split. She had felt the sweet release on her wrists as the shifter was interrogating Booth, a distraction that had aided her.

"You sure about that? All those monsters I've killed would beg to differ. Perhaps you may want to reconsider your words in a couple minutes when, inevitably, I decapitate you."

The shifter's face slackened as she took in her captive's words. "What are you talking about?"

A smile still glistening on her face, Carter raised her hands from behind her back, the rope falling off as she did so. With her lack of restraints gone, she sprung into action, launching herself at the shifter's knees. Swiftly, the shifter crashed to the ground, the wind being knocked out of her in the process. Carter crawled up to sit on her chest, pinning down and stopping her from moving.

She began pelting punches into the shifter's face, dodging her flying hands as she did so. Carter's breathing became rigid and hoarse as she worked her anger out, taking every little dig she had heard and equaling it out into punches. As her fist slowed, she looked down at what no longer resembled Carter's imitated face, and was now a mash of skin on bone. The shapeshifter characteristics had appeared as the skin began to peel away in places. The shifter had groaned in slight pain, but otherwise was unfazed by her skin peeling off and bunching.

As her arms took advantage of Carter's reprieve by gripping and scratching the girl's face, Carter riffled through the jacket underneath her, looking for the blade she knew was in there. The shifter had managed one good blow to Carter's chin before the smooth handle came into her grasp. She yanked it out of the mess of fabric and held it to the shifter's neck, immediately freezing her in fear.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I?" Carter asked, the familiar gleam of pure adrenaline washing over. "You still think I'm a worthless little pebble? Still think I wouldn't make a difference? Why don't you tell that to the dozens of monsters I've killed?" A devilish smile grew over the hunter's face. "Have fun in purgatory, bitch." With that, the blade quickly slipped through the hot flesh of the shapeshifter beneath her, immediately stilling its movements.

Still breathing heavy, Carter stood up and looked down at the decapitated shifter. A horrified look was still plastered on its face, frozen that way forever. Satisfied with her work, Carter turned to look over at Booth, who was watching Carter with a nervous, terrified look. Slowing her breath, Carter bent down and wiped the blood from the knife onto the shifter's pants, and then stood up and walked towards Booth. Not taking his eyes off her, Booth watched as Carter sliced the rope that bound him. Hardly paying further attention to Booth, Carter stood up, slowly walking back over towards the shifter, examining her work.

The rope no longer binding him, Booth stood up, cautious to not create too much noise. Eyes locked on the back of Carter's head, anger flaring, he reached behind his back and pulled out his gun, training it on the young murderer. His hand expertly firm and steady, he lined his gun up to Carter's back and took a deep breath.

Ready to face her, he ordered, "Drop the knife, put your hands on your head. You're under arrest."

* * *

Let me know what you thought! Reviews, favorites, and follows make me very happy and encourage me to write more!

See you next week with chapter five, the finale! And if you want to read more about Carter, make sure to check out my other story, "Her Life and Other Tragedies."


	5. Chapter 5

Hello and welcome back to the final chapter! Thank you so much to all those that have stuck with me and commented, favorited and/or followed. It means so much to me and really pushes me to write more for you all. So enjoy this final chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, Bones, or any of their characters

Warnings: Mention of blood, cursing

* * *

Upon hearing his command, Carter stopped her motions and soaked in his words. Slowly, spinning on her heel, confusion masking her face, she turned to see Booth with a gun raised to her chest. The seriousness of the situation sinking in, Carter watched the gun, raising her arms to respect his wishes. The knife holding loosely in her hand, she warned, "Careful, Booth. Think about what you're doing here."

"I'm not going to ask again." The man unmoving, unwavering, Carter sighed. She bent down and placed the knife on the ground, not taking her eyes off him.

Standing back up, arms raised, she smirked, "We got a problem here, Booth?"

He quickly glanced over at the dead girl on the ground. "You chopped her head off."

"Well, she kidnapped me."

"There was a better way that could have been handled," his tone became threatening and rough.

Carter scoffed. "What, handcuff her? Bring her down to headquarters and hope the law works its magic? You do realize that that wouldn't have worked, right?" Chuckling worriedly, she asked, "I mean, you are on board with this whole shapeshifter/monster thing, right?"

Booth looked one more time over at the shifter and licked his lips in uncertainty.

Taking a deep breath, Carter knew she had to reset and start over. "Okay, why don't we put the gun down and start over, huh?" She paused, and when Booth didn't put down the gun, she sighed. "Alright, fine." Quickly Carter began to rifle through her brain, thinking of the best way to break this all to him in a way he would understand and believe.

Finally, she found her way in. "Remember going undercover to get Jimmy? Remember how you had to dress and act a certain way and I had to tell you exactly what to say? Do you remember everything I made you tell Jimmy? About the demons and the vampires and everything?" Slowly and carefully, she lowered her arms, her tone loose but unwavering. "Booth, I wouldn't make that shit up. I wish to God I was, but its all real."

Booth's eyes roamed over Carter, taking in every little signal she was throwing off. Her carefree stance, her focused eyes, and the lack of her ever present smirk. Everything pointed to her being serious; nothing about her expressed any form of joking or mockery.

His heart sunk.

All this time he had been hoping and praying that the girl that had tied him up had drugged him or was using some trick of the light to look like Carter. He hoped and prayed that that girl laying on the ground dead wasn't actually an exact copy of the criminal in front of him. But it was. And he knew for a fact that she didn't have an identical twin. The reality that the dead girl wasn't human started sinking in.

"You're serious?" He asked, hoping maybe he had just misinterpreted something.

Carter shrugged. "Sorry."

He took a deep breath and lowered his gun. Keeping it at his side, he looked over at the shifter. "Beheading?" He asked. "That's how you kill them?"

Inwardly sighing in relief, Carter followed his eyes and looked over. "Shapeshifters at least, yeah. That or silver knife to the heart. But of course I didn't have anything silver on me." She turned her body to face the shifter and put her hands in her front pockets, taking in her latest kill. "Beheading is always a backup plan; it's effective as hell, but it can get a little messy."

Booth's lip upturned as he fully took in the bloody sight. "You said, back in my office that day, that you 'save people and kill bad things.' This is what you were talking about?" Carter looked over at him. "How can you do it?"

Carter looked down in thought, wondering the same thing. Eventually, she just shrugged. "It becomes instinct, I guess. When you've seen such horrible things and realize you can do something about it, you can't just ignore it when the next one comes around. And after a while, saving people and hunting things just becomes your routine and your job. You realize that making sure innocent people don't suffer is more important than anything else."

"More important than the law?"

She chuckled. "The law wasn't made to support hunters; we always find ways around it."

Finally, Booth holstered his gun behind his back.

"Is that why you lied to me? That day I interrogated you about Sam and Dean's deaths? You wouldn't tell me what really happened to Sam; was it a monster?"

Carter's head dropped as she recalled the painful memory. Booth took a couple steps closer and her voice rang out quietly. "We were hunting a pack of werewolves at the time. Sam stayed behind in the cabin to clean up, when a werewolf we missed attacked him. Dean and I heard Sam scream, and we went in to check on him. Sam was still alive," she took a deep breath, "but not for long. The werewolf had cut him up too much and we couldn't stop the bleeding." She looked back up to meet Booth's eyes. "The rest of the story was true. Several hours after he died, we put him in his pine box and buried him in a field. A couple days later Dean left to Missouri and told me to find my way to our friend Bobby's house."

Booth thought for a moment. "Is that the guy whose number you gave me at the diner?"

She smirked. "Yeah, he's a hell of a guy. I never did make it to his house, though. I decided if Dean was going to continue on, then I had to too."

"And that led to your arrest?"

She sighed. "Yup, just goes to show that hunting in numbers is always worth it." Licking her lips, she peered over at him with expectation. "Speaking of arrests, is that how my night ends?"

"Nah," he smiled, "from what you told me, I think the world benefits more with you on the outside. Plus, I was never here, I never saw you."

A wide, genuine smile spread across Carter's face, the first one Booth had ever seen. "Thanks, Booth. I owe you one."

"No worries, just stay out of the big crimes and I won't have to come after you. Now what do you say about getting the hell out of here?"

She chuckled. "Would love to, but I gotta clean up in here first." They both looked over at the body on the floor. "Somebody needs to get rid of the body, or else we both would be in trouble."

"What do you do with them?"

"Wrap them up in whatever I can find and burn them, usually, or bury them in a remote place if I don't have time to burn." Carter looked around the warehouse before spotting a tarp balled up along the wall. Briskly, she walked over to the tarp and grabbed it, carrying it back over to the body.

Booth watched in slight horror as Carter wrapped the body in the tarp, tucking it around the shifter's every little crevice. Wordlessly, Carter asked Booth to grab the rope from their former bindings to tie the tarp down. Then, using the knife, she cut off a little section to wrap the head separately. Throughout her motions, the young girl stayed silent, not even gagging as the smell of blood overcame her. It was obvious she had done this countless times before. Once she finished, Carter placed the head on the wrapped stomach and asked Booth to grab the feet. As they both lifted, the literal dead weight surprised Booth, and it took a moment to adjust. As they walked it outside, the blood started soaking through the cloth and coating Carter's hands. Though, from what Booth could see, she didn't mind, hardly even noticed. Spotting the shifter's vehicle close to the door, they walked the body over to it. After a bit of finagling, Carter managed to pop the trunk and they both dumped the body carelessly into it.

Moments later, Booth had turned his car on and they both stood in the light of his headlights, watching each other for possibly the last time. Around them, it was quiet. They were far from public roads, so no cars could be heard. Crickets and tree frogs talked quietly to each other in the distance. Above them, the moon shined proudly in the sky, sending little gifts of light down.

"Thanks for," Carter took a deep breath, "you know, not arresting me and meeting me at the diner and coming when you thought I drunk called you. I now know, deep down inside you, there's actually a good person in there." A smile split across their faces.

"Yeah, well same to you. I knew there was more to you when I first met you. I'm glad I got to meet that person. And sorry about your brothers; no matter who you are, losing family is the worst thing that could happen to you. I'm going to see what I can do for you about getting their remains, but don't get your hopes up."

Carter slowly nodded her head and pursed her lip. "I never do."

Booth stuck his hand out, an end to the means. Carter firmly shook it, all ties being dropped between them.

"Goodbye, Booth." She turned and headed off towards the shifter's car. Expertly, she tugged on wires until she found the right two to start it, the engine purring alive almost immediately. Booth watching, Carter pulled out and headed for the road.

Smiling to himself, Booth climbed into his own vehicle and headed towards home.

* * *

Over a week later, Carter was back on the road, heading towards another hunt. Her car was still silent, the sounds of the road surrounding her. Turning on the radio still put her in a bad mood and the cold weather still prevented the windows from being opened. She relied on the scenery around her to keep her distracted. Eccentric small towns, maniac drivers, and crazy weather all attempted to take her mind and run.

But they did little.

Every little thing she saw reminded her of her brothers. And with every little thing, her heart ached more and more. An hour into her drive and all she could think about were her brothers' remains sitting in a cold warehouse alone. All she wanted was to bring them home and give them a proper hunter's funeral. She couldn't bring them back to life, and now she couldn't even give them a proper funeral. It sucked.

As Carter entered another little town, she approached a stoplight and slowed. As she was waiting for the light to change, a shrill ringing set throughout the car. Immediately, Carter's hands flew to her bag on the seat next to her, searching the pockets for her phone. Finally finding it and answering it, she put it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey, I got some good news," Bobby's brusque voice called on the other end.

The light turned green and Carter eased her car forwards. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

"I just got a visit from some people from the FBI." Bobby took a drink of his whiskey. "They dropped off Sam and Dean's remains and Dean's car. They said a man named Booth had something to do with it. You know anything about this?"

Carter chuckled as she eased her car back towards the highway leading to Bobby's house. Smiling, she said, "Yeah, I might have had something to do with it."

Bobby sighed, knowing that if a Winchester was involved, it meant a hell of a story. And usually, it meant they'd done something stupid. "Idjit, what'd ya do this time?"

A grin spread across her face. "I'll tell you when I get there; I'm on my way."

Bobby said his goodbye and the two hung up their phones. Carter glided towards the highway, finally with a destination in mind. Now, her thoughts were consumed of Agent Booth and how he finally came through for her. It took awhile, but maybe now they were finally on good standings.

Maybe now they could trust each other.

And, if nothing else, that opened up all new avenues of possibilities.

* * *

Again, thank you all so much for sticking around! If you would like to read more about Carter, I have a story titled "Her Life and Other Tragedies," if you are interested! Until next time!


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